Binding Words
by caillte
Summary: Jareth lived in a world of rules... To break the laws was to destroy himself, for though words were only words, the power they brought and the ruin they could cause were very real indeed, as Sarah now finds out. JS.
1. The Gift

A/N- This is my first story on fanfiction, so I won't _ask_ you to be nice, but I would appreciate it. Oh, and the regular disclaimer, I do not own the charecters or the places, ect.

* * *

_...words are binding... _

"Now Sarah, calm down-"

"What do you mean calm down! She had no right to do that!" Sarah's voice was almost shrill in the coldness of the kitchen. They had been waiting for her when she got home, her backpack slung over her shoulder as she took her customary route through the back door, usually it meant her presence would be unnoticed. And that was always a plus in Sarah's view. But today had been different. She had come home late, drama club rehearsal had run overtime, again, but that wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the two pairs of eyes that had greeted her as she quietly slipped in through the kitchen door. That and the small leather-bound book lying on the table top. Her diary. Sarah froze at the sight. Her father was sitting at the table, looking more worn out then he had in a long time, his hands toying with the book though he was not looking at the pages. Karen though… Karen was leaning in the open doorway of the servant's stair, blocking Sarah's retreat, a poisonous smile on her face. Sarah wasn't even sure it could be classified as a smile.

"Hello Sarah." And that's where it started. She had read her diary… Karen had read her diary. Everything else turned into a blur of words, the patronizing cruelty of her step mother with the ever so concerned words. "Worried about you… Much too old for imaginary friends… Imagine- goblins!... Perhaps talk to someone…" And her father's silent looks, uncertain, almost disbelieving. "Almost eighteen… Daydreams… No grasp on reality-"

"You shouldn't have read it! Why were you in my room! Why were you in my diary?"

"Now Sarah, calm down-" The first words from her father, the first time he really looked at her since she had walked in.

"What do you mean calm down! She had no right to do that!" The things that were in that diary… The labyrinth, a story so fantastical she had confided it to no one, precisely because she knew it would have drawn this exact reaction. Hoggle and Ludo, a dwarf and a beast, some of her best friends. And the Goblin King… A chill ran down Sarah's back at the thought of him. Lethal danger, with his poisoned tipped promises, the look in his eyes as her words echoed between them. A look she had not recognized until later, the offer that was in them, the pain as she blindly refused, the ego that had never before been slighted. _You have no power over me…_ A childhood terror that had not been completely vanquished, she did not wish for another encounter. And Karen had read it. She had unlocked Sarah's diary and unlocked the darkest reaches of Sarah's soul. No wonder she was calling it insanity.

"Honestly Sarah. Behave yourself, I won't ask you to act your age because you're obviously not fully functioning as an adult. It's for the best; we can finally get you the help you need. You're obviously out of control, vicious, what you wish you did to your brother… I just don't know what to say Sarah… I've tried, truly I have." Karen's voice was cruel, playing the martyr to Sarah's righteous outrage.

"You had no right! I can't believe you!" She turned to her father, looking for some sort of defense.

"I think that, maybe, it's for the best Sarah." The concern on his face did not come close to numbing the betrayal his words made. Sarah fell silent, staring at her father, her protector… her Brutus. Then she was running past him, her backpack dropped upon the floor as she made for the stairwell, trying to brush past her stepmother. But Karen seized her arm as she passed, her nails digging painfully into Sarah's bare skin. Her voice was mocking, cruel, bitterly making fun of Sarah's "fantasies."

"I wish the goblins would come take _you_ away-" She paused and Sarah wrenched out of her grip, running up the stairway before her stepmother could finish those fatal words. But the sound of them echoed up after her, freezing her at the top of the steps in the hallway that lead to her bedroom. "_Right now_."

_

* * *

_

_...words are binding... _

Sarah's heart echoed in her ears at the fading sound of those poisoned words. Praying that perhaps she really was insane, that the labyrinth was just some sort of sick delusion. That the words meant nothing, just syllables tossed together, a meaningless phrase that _had no power_. A shadow brushed by the edge of her vision and Sarah whirled around, but all her eyes met was the shadows in the twist of the servant's stair. An empty hallway, no buzz of magic, no flutter of wings, no scurry of goblins, not even a thunderstorm to grace the moment. She leaned against the edge of the doorway, closing her eyes for a moment, her heart pounding inside her. Nothing. The words sounded stupid to her now. Words she hadn't even dared to whisper after the fateful events almost a year ago. Slowly she opened her eyes, and still there was nothing. The stairway remained empty, except for the murmur, too low to be heard, of conversation downstairs, the hallway was empty.

It was almost a let down. Almost disappointing. Sarah slumped down against the wall, and took her head in her hands. She didn't know what to think. It had been so real, the frustration with Toby, the determination to win him back. The adrenaline of racing against time, the bittersweet partnership with the frustrating dwarf. The fear. The unforgettable tension, uncertainty, terror, desire that was the Goblin King. The single dance in the ballroom. The triumph. Could it really all have been a hallucination? Karen couldn't have been right. Couldn't _be_ right. But the hallway remained empty and Sarah couldn't tell if she was grateful that the demon had not appeared to collect the soul he had been promised, or to be terrified that she was as insane as her step-mother implied. Whether she was relieved she did not have to face the Goblin King, or… as empty as the hallway that lay in front of her. So she sat there, silent, staring at her hands, for minutes on end. Finally she rose, a cold feeling inside of her, as if something had died, as if someone had taken an eraser and had erased a part of her. No, as if it had just simply disappeared.

She walked down the hallway to her door and put her hand on the handle, quietly turning the knob, she didn't want to remind her parents she was still upstairs. She slid the door open slowly, the faint glow of dusk that lingered in her room, spilling over the bed, over the Goblin King who was lounging upon it, and out into the hallway. Sarah shut the door with a snap and blinked. Wild blond hair, black leather gloves, heeled boots, and those _pants_. He was exactly what she remembered, twirling a crystal in his hand. But he couldn't have been there. Karen had been right, she had been hallucinating. It couldn't be true. Sarah's mouth was dry, caught between wanting to believe she was insane, that the Goblin King was _not_ sprawled upon her bed, almost insolently twirling a crystal, and wanting to believe she was right, and that _was_ the Goblin King, sprawled upon her bed, hair glowing in the dying sun. She opened the door again.

Empty. Her room was empty. Karen was right. She was going crazy, hallucinating. So it had never happened, the Labyrinth, Hoggle, the goblins, Jareth… it was all a dream, some crazy, messed up fantasy, and she was insa-

"Hello Sarah." Sarah didn't need to turn around to see who that voice belonged to.


	2. I'm Not A Gambling Man

A/N- The regular disclaimer, I do not own Labyrinth, as depressing as it is.

* * *

_...words are binding..._

Jareth lived in a world of rules, King he may be, but all of his actions were governed by the very same laws that granted him his power. When summoned he must respond, yet until called for, he could not interfere. Absolute obedience was his to demand in the Underground, yet he could not even venture Aboveground in his natural form, until his presence was called for. He could not exact any revenge, nor press any advantage, or risk shattering his rule. To break the laws was to destroy himself, for though words were only words, the power they brought and the ruin they could cause were very real indeed, as Sarah had so aptly proven.

Sarah… The name itself was still painful to the Goblin King. How could such a girl, a mere slip of a girl defeat him? _Reject him…_ For the first time in his life Jareth had tasted rejection and the flavor was still bitter in his mouth. And he could do nothing about it. For the first time in his life he had no recourse, no revenge, for the first time he felt trapped in the Underground. He had taken the girl's brother as she had wished, but what need did he have of a baby? No, he had taken the boy for Sarah. It was strange the first time he had seen her, alone in the park with only her dog, she had captivated him. So he watched her, watched her in his crystals, watched her as a snow white owl outside her window. And she had called him.

So yes, he had taken the boy, why wouldn't he? And through the boy he had intended to take Sarah. When she ran his labyrinth, lost to his labyrinth, he would have given her the option, would she trade herself for the boy? And in the Underground, words were binding. But she hadn't lost. She had conquered his labyrinth, was about to conquer _him_. So he chose his words carefully. _Let me rule you…_ But she didn't stop, maybe she didn't see, so he offered more. _Just fear me, love me, do as I say…_ In the Underground words were binding…_ And I will be your slave..._ He had offered her everything.

And she had refused? He still couldn't believe it, a year later and the taste was still bitter in his mouth. He tried to stop watching her, but staring at his crystals he found his gaze drawn to her face, on soft wings Aboveground, he found himself her silent white shadow. She was nearly driving him mad. Nothing he could do, no recourse, no way to make her see, no way to make her hurt as he hurt. Words were binding. _You have no power over me. No power. No power._ Until now. When called he was always forced to appear, besides, it was rude to refuse a gift, especially one as generous as the one he had just been given. This time he had been given the upper hand, this time there would be no game, no race, no possibility of exchange. This time she was his. In the Underground words are binding…

* * *

_...words are binding..._

"Hello Sarah." The words sent a chill down her back, a tremor through her body, though she stopped it as quickly as she could. She didn't turn around though, knowing what she would see. Or more appropriately, who. All of the sudden she found herself hoping, for perhaps the first time in her life, her step-mother was right.

"Why are you here, Jareth?" Still not turning around. If I can't see you, you can't see me. A child's fantasy. Jareth however was no fantasy a_ child_ would ever come up with.

"You know very well why I'm here Sarah-" The words struck a note, a gentle mockery of the last time he had been summoned. To Sarah the words suddenly seemed much more ominous, the soft, untraceable cadence he spoke with, suddenly dangerous. "To collect what is mine." She could feel the smirk, the smug, self-satisfied little smile of egotism. That particular Jareth smile, secure in the knowledge of his own brilliance. She turned around then, slowly, uncertain whether she really wanted to turn, wanted to see the King of Goblins, or refuse to look, resolutely remain staring at the room in front of her, denying his existence. He looked as imposing as he had the first time she had set eyes on him, the self-confidence that infused every action still dripping from his form. He was not conventionally pretty, not handsome, but the way he held himself, the poise and self-assurance that radiated from him made him beautiful. Dangerous. Sarah stood for a moment; staring at him the way she had stared at him the first time she had seen him. She had played for high stakes last time, but this was different, this time _she_ was the stake. The knowledge made her look at him more closely, her opponent, her enemy, her adversary. Her demon. Ready to give her her dreams, who really needs their soul anyways? _Damn Karen._

"Sarah, if I realized you liked to stare at me so, I would have just given you a portrait. " The words snapped her back to the present, she could feel the heat in her cheeks as she realized she had been staring. As if Jareth needed the ego boost. She averted her eyes from him quickly, ready to make a scathing retort, but found that the scene that awaited her suitably distracted her from responding to his taunt. They weren't in her bedroom anymore. The cold stone of the goblin castle surrounded her, though the decor of the room they were in was much different then what she had encountered before. Dark tapestries covered most of the walls and an open balcony behind her was catching the last rays of sunlight in a parody of her room. It was much more elegant then the throne room she had seen last time, nowhere near as primitive or crude as the mess that the goblins had left.

But it was still the Underground. It might have been the Underworld as far as Sarah was concerned, she would have been equally as happy to be visiting there. It was the contents of the room that set her off balance as she turned away from him once more, to gaze at the furnishings. A wardrobe, a vanity, a carved wooden bed… _Please don't let it be his room._ "Where are we?"

"Your room, Pet." _Oh. My room. That's good. Wait…_ She glanced at him, still not facing him completely.

"Jareth, I don't need a room. As soon as Karen gets to the castle, I'm out of here. I think I can survive for thirteen hours without a… What?" She stopped at the expression on his face, the smirk had returned accompanied by one sardonically arched eyebrow.

"I don't think you understand, Sarah. I'm not a gambling man, you taught me better yourself. But then who wouldn't be tempted to trade tinsel for diamonds? I played and I lost, but not even I am fool enough Pet, to bet when there are no stakes. There will be no game, no race. I have merely accepted a very generous present, nothing more. I really do hope you find your room suitable."

For the second time that day Sarah just stared. No game? No race? He couldn't be serious. There had to be a way out. He _couldn't _be serious. "What… What do you mean Jareth?" Her voice was uncertain even to her own ears.

"I meant what I said. I hope you like your room for it will be yours for a very long time…"

"But that's… That's not fair!" Jareth always seemed to inspire those words in her, but that didn't stop his form from slowly fading out, even as she watched him. "Don't you dare leave me here Goblin King! Don't you dare!"

Jareth dared. Sarah turned and hurled herself onto the narrow wooden bed, the covers soft beneath her face. She was on the verge of tears. Her father had always told her she cried easily, ever since she was very young she would turn to tears, perhaps that was what had lead him to spoil her slightly. But this time Sarah thought even he would agree she had just cause. More then just cause. She had wanted to put the Labyrinth behind her, not forget, never forget, but move on. She hadn't wanted to come back, and most certainly hadn't wanted to come back as Jareth's personal guest. Jareth. The Goblin King. A puzzle wrapped inside an enigma hidden inside a riddle. After running the Labyrinth she had had ample time to think about it. About him. About the feel of his hand on her waist, the gentle force with which he had lead her in their single dance. The fire that was smoldering in his eyes, burning so deeply she didn't even want to look in case she was seared. She hadn't had time to think of him during the race- alright, that was a lie. She hadn't _wanted_ to think of him as she fought her way closer to his castle. She hadn't understood, wasn't sure she wanted to understand. Until after. He was one of the reasons she wanted to leave the Labyrinth and all it stood for behind. Because she did understand, because she found that maybe she wasn't as against it as she wanted to be. Because she found that she still dreamed of that shadowy dance. She still dreamed of his presence, the smug confidence in which he draped himself, the tantalizing offer she had understood far too late. No. No, she had defeated him, she didn't want this, didn't want him, that was all there was to it. She was an actress, a creature of beautiful lies, what did one more count for? Especially when she wanted to believe it herself.

Thoughts running in circles around her head, she buried her face in the pillow. If she closed her eyes, it smelled almost like home. Eventually, she fell asleep, her pillow still unmarked by the wet stains of tears.

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A/N- A big hug to the two who reviewed, because you're wonderful, way to boost my ego. As if it needed it. 


	3. Descent into the Maelstrom

A/N- The regular diclaimer.

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_...words are binding..._

Jareth sighed, his eyes lingering on the sleeping face in his crystal. Even in slumber it looked as stubbornly determined as the girl to whom it belonged to. His Sarah. The phrase sent a delightful tickle down his back, he had thought it so often and now… Now it was true. So he wasn't being fair, he wasn't being nice. It didn't matter, he had finally gotten what he wanted. No, that still wasn't true. He had Sarah yes, but he still did not _have _her. Not physically, he was not so crude as to be vexed he had not yet claimed her as his, especially when he could do that whenever, if ever, he chose to. But that he did not have her, she did not look at him with the same passion with which he watched her, she did not miss his presence, alone in the dark. She did not long for his mismatched eyes, did not need to listen to his voice. He had no claim to her heart, even if she now belonged to him in body.

He could feel the old anger inside him, coiled beneath the surface, how could she reject him? Leave him? An ego that had never been brushed let alone bruised, she had flayed it alive and wiped her feet on it as she walked out the door. But she was his now, his to do as he wanted with, he had offered her everything, offered her himself, with no way out if she accepted, words were binding. But she hadn't accepted, and now _she_ had no way out. She would learn, he would teach her. He would shatter the lie. She would learn to fear him yes, learn to do as he wished. But most importantly, he would be able to see the light in her eyes when she saw him, he would be able to hear the change in her voice when he walked into her presence, she would learn to love him.

* * *

_...words are binding... _

Sarah awoke in the near dark. The dim light that had painted her room as she rocked herself asleep had faded away to the haunting flickering of candles. No, not candles, small orbs, crystals, were fixed to silver sets in the wall, providing the wavering glow that was illuminating the small room. It was an unwelcome reminder of whose hospitality she was enjoying. She sat up, wincing as her cramped muscles protested, and swung her feet off the bed. The room itself was small, just big enough to house all of the furniture without seeming cramped. The balcony's clear glass doors were still hanging open, a light breeze making the wall hangings dance. The wind smelled strange, perfumed by unknown flowers, dusty and foreign, but somehow… reassuring. It was a safe smell. There were two doors in her room, both dark wood matching the dark of her furniture. Sarah stood and went to one and pulled it open. It lead to a small bathroom, surprisingly light compared to the darkness of the room she had just left. The same stone floor but the stones lead into a light almost white color as they dropped off into a sunken tub. There was only one window in the room, barely a foot high, it ran the length of the wall along the ceiling. The glass of the window was fogged, but a few of the panels were tilted open, letting the breeze in as well, hinges to show they could be closed as well. Sarah snorted; obviously someone was trying to get on her good side. She went back into the bedroom, she could deal with this, she would find Jareth and tell him that if he wanted to be nice to her, just let her go, and if he wouldn't do that, at least let her run the Labyrinth in place of Karen, give her a chance to be free. She would probably do a better job of getting through then her step-mother anyways, seeing as she had already managed it.

Sarah went to the other door she hadn't yet opened and put her hand on the wrought silver handle. Jareth couldn't be totally unreasonable, could he? The knob wouldn't turn. She put both hands on it, rattling the locked door. "Damn it Jareth! Let me out!" The door did not open. With a frustrated cry Sarah threw herself against it, slamming her fist on the wood. Alright, maybe he could be totally unreasonable. She leaned against the door for a moment, her breathing slightly heavy, more from panic then exertion. Fine. Jareth may want to keep her prisoner, but who said she had to be complacent about it? He wanted to keep her, make him work for it, she wasn't going to sit around like some pretty caged bird waiting for him to come listen to her sing. She ran to the balcony, peering over the edge. A terraced balcony lay directly below hers, perhaps fifteen feet down. It was much larger then her own, a good twenty feet across, but beyond the stone railing of the terrace was a drop. Sarah suddenly pulled her head back feeling slightly queasy. She had no idea that the Goblin Castle was positioned on a cliff. She hadn't noticed when she had approached it from the front, but now, she saw no trace of the labyrinth she had journeyed through, but a good thousand foot fall. Not even a sea beneath it, just a rugged cliff and the faint hint of a river before it was consumed by darkness. Sarah swallowed hard. Whatever, first she would make it to the balcony, and use whatever door was there to make it out of the castle, and through the Labyrinth, and then she would find someway home, screw Jareth.

She looked around her room, the standard equipment for this sort of thing was bed sheets, but Sarah wasn't sure she trusted that idea. If she could rip them by hand, whose to say they wouldn't rip under her weight? Maybe tying together clothing. She opened the door of the wardrobe and nearly coughed at the sight that greeted her eyes. He actually expected her to wear _these_? The clothes in the wardrobe didn't look sturdy enough to wear let alone climb down from a balcony on. But what could you expect from a man who wore those pants? He certainly didn't have any qualms about showing off _his_ attributes. Sarah slowly shut the door and looked around once more, the bed sheet idea was beginning to sound the most practical. The wall hangings would work but she saw no way to tie them together, and the steel bars they rested on brought no easy solution to mind. Sarah scowled, turning once again to look at the balcony, before blinking. The drapes. Hanging from either side of the oversized glass doors were long curtains, perfectly sized to tie together and still have enough to climb down on. Sarah grabbed the vanity chair and stood on it to carefully lower the metal bar they were hanging on down. She took one curtain off of the bar, but left the other one threaded on, she would need some place to tie her escape rope to, and the bed was to far away. As it was she could just leave one curtain threaded and leave the bar on the floor, it was too long to fit past the door, so it would jam and hold her weight until she reached the balcony below. She tied the curtains together, as tightly as she was able too. So her father was finally right, Girl Scouts had come in handy, if only for the knot work.

Sarah lowered the loose end over the edge of her balcony; it fell almost to the waiting terrace below. Far below. How… wonderful. Suddenly the escape idea seemed a little foolish, staring down at that ridiculous cliff, since when was the Goblin Castle on a cliff anyways? _It wasn't fair_. Sarah straightened up as those words echoed in her head, taking the make-shift rope firmly in her hands. It wasn't fair but so what? The memory of Jareth's sneer as she had indignantly cried her protest was enough to make her move to the edge of the balcony. It wasn't fair, that was true, and she could live with it. She wasn't going to let a little thing like a thousand foot drop stop her. She shut her eyes tightly. "Here goes nothing." Quickly she swung one leg over the edge, clinging to the smooth material of the curtain, the next leg and she was hanging over the side of the balcony, knees gripping the rope as well. But then she started to slide, the material in her hands was to smooth, slippery under her grip. Down, down, it seemed like an eternity to her as she slid, hovering over the edge of a cliff, "I hate you Jareth, I hate you Jareth, I hate you Jareth." The words served better then curses. Then, stone beneath her feet, blessedly solid stone and she dropped to her hands and knees, her nerves still humming with the adrenaline of the decent.

"Sarah, how nice of you to… _drop by_."

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A/N- I want to once again thank everyone who reviewed, it is appreciated more then words suffice to say. Wow, of course that dosen't make me seem desperate for ego inflation. What I guess I mean to say is it is appreciated, especially as I have a habit of dropping off on minor cliff hangors. (No pun intended for this chapter.) I give my excuses for letting Jareth get away with having no one run the Labyrinth in his excuse to Sarah. Honestly, I think it could be either way, but for the convience of my fic I slipped that in, hopefully believably enough. As to Jareth's intentions for Sarah, who says roses don't bloom in hell? My Jareth is a little confused to be out of the role of suave sophisticated seducer, this being the first time he got his emotions mixed up in it, so he's a little confused on how to act. Of course, it's Sarah's own words that finally damn her.And that would be more of a preview then I intended to give. Enjoy. 

Oh, and I have to recognize Edgar Allen Poe for the title of this chapter, it just fit so perfectly I had to borrow it.


	4. The Storm Begins

A/N- The regular disclaimer.

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_...words are binding..._

Jareth had been sitting by the fire when he first saw the crimson rope drop down to dangle in front of his bedroom window, though really you could not call the floor to ceiling expanse of glass a window, much more accurate to call it simply a glass wall. One that afford him both an amazing view and a clear look at the strange happenings of his balcony. He set down the book he had been reading, and picked up the crystal that had been set carelessly next to his chair.

Well now, this was a development he hadn't been expecting. Sarah's face greeted him with the determination that he had come to associate with her, an unyielding stubbornness that frustrated him to no end. As he walked over to lean in the open glass doors of his balcony he wondered idly if she had any notion of where her escape attempt would lead her. From the expression on her face when she heard his soft words he could only assume that she didn't.

Still, who was he not to take advantage of such a surprise visit...

To his bedroom...

In the middle of the night...

"Sarah, how nice of you to… _drop by_."

* * *

_...words are binding... _

Sarah's eyes shot open and her head snapped up at the words.

"Really, you needn't look so surprised; if anyone has a right to look shocked, it's me. It isn't everyday you find people dropping onto your bedroom balcony." Jareth was leaning against the doorframe, his black clad figure stark against the contrasting light spilling from the room behind him. "Do you have any idea of what time it is?"

Slowly Sarah stood, the adrenaline that had powered her for the escape, still simmering in her blood. Even if she now felt like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, "Does it matter, Jareth?" She straightened up with a bravo she knew she didn't really have, she had defeated him once before, she could do it again. "I'm leaving."

"You are, are you?" She could kill him for that smile. His voice was mocking, as if speaking to a child. "Well, don't let me stop you." He turned slightly to give her access to the room behind him, his arms still crossed over his chest. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, he was infuriating, truly infuriating, that smile, the ego she would just like to smash. Fine, he wanted to play? She would play, she would find her way out of the god-damn castle. She stalked past him, even though she wasn't looking at him, for some reason all her nerves were focused on him, she could feel his breath as she passed. She didn't touch him. And then she stopped, his previous words truly registering for the first time as she looked around at the room she had entered. _Bedroom balcony._ Bedroom. She was in Jareth's bedroom.

It was huge compared to hers, not even compared to hers. She had pegged Jareth as a hedonist, and the sight that greeted her did not contradict it in the least. Three steps dropped down to a thick blue carpet. Several smooth leather chairs surrounded a great marble fireplace, but it was his bed that was the focal point. Overlarge, it had agiant canopy, the four wooden posters the same polished wood of her room, but at the top of the poles, crystals were set into the wood. At least three doors lead out of the room, one for each of the walls of stone. The wall behind her was made entirely of glass. Sarah gasped in surprise as she felt someone press against her from behind, the musty, foreign smell, smelling of flowers, but still managing to be overwhelmingly masculine, the smell of Jareth. "So Sarah… What do you think?" His breath was warm on her neck.

"It's… it's very nice." She pulled away from him, his chuckle ringing in her ears. Her own breath echoed loudly to her, too loud, too fast. Her heart was beating quicker then it should have been and her stomach was on pins, twisted up in a way she had never felt it before. Probably still nerves from the descent. "Whatever game you're playing Jareth, I want no part of it." She turned to look at him, his black shirt hanging almost open, funny, she had seen more of his chest then she had of his hands. Even though she was no longer touching him, she could still feel the tingling where he had been leaning into her, the warmth from where his body had been. Her eyes lingered on the pale strip of flesh, before she tore them away, back up to his face, to his smile. To those mismatched eyes that regarded her with a strange look, hungry, cold, mocking, wanting,_ burning._ Sarah took a step back.

A bad move, she had forgotten the steps behind her. Her foot meet with thin air, hovering madly before she lost her balance and stumbled. Her shoe found the step too late, and the contact jarred her, her knee buckling and she lost all semblance of control. "Shit." Her arms flailed around wildly as she fell backwards- r_eal smooth Sarah, real smooth._ She closed her eyes out of instinct, for when she would hit the ground with bruising force. But she never hit the ground. Sarah didn't hear him move, didn't see him through her tightly closed eyes, but her nerves braced for the fall, she felt him behind her, felt his arms before they touched her, catching her before she hit the ground. They were strong arms, holding her lightly against his chest, as if she were no more then an empty sack. But he held her as delicatly as a baby, as if she were fragile in his arms.

"Be careful Sarah, we wouldn't want to break you. Not yet anyways." The whisper sent a shiver down her back even as her eyes snapped open once again in rage.

"Put me down this instant Jareth!" He complied. Sarah hit the floor with a thud and she rolled away from him, unable to find any suitable facial expression to express all of the emotions that were running through her. She was angry, no that wasn't strong enough, she was livid. She had had enough of the Goblin King, enough of doubting her sanity, enough of her step-mother, enough of the Underground, enough of the chills that weren't entirely fear. She didn't want this, didn't want to be here, she just wanted to go home. Wanted to hide in her room. She scrambled to her feet, unable to find the right words to throw at him. Unable to find the right words to knock that smug little smile off his face. Finally she just turned away from him, seething. "I hate you Jareth. I really truly hate you." She wasn't able to say it to his face.

Her words worked, staring at Sarah's turned back Jareth was no longer smiling. The good humor draining from his face at the knives in her words. For a moment his face grew cold, empty, hovering on the brink of a thousand different emotions, and then, his eyebrows snapped together, his mismatched eyes gleaming with anger. How dare she? She did not know what hate was, how dare she throw those words at him? He had done so much for her and she had thrown it all back at him, how dare she tell him she hated him, she didn't understand what hate meant. The bitterness that festers for so long, staring at what you can not have, trapped inside a life you never wanted, bound by careless words, she did not know what hate was. _How dare she_. In an instant he was behind her, spinning her around to face him, his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, pulling her against him.

"You hate me Sarah?" Harsh whispered words. Dangerous words. Words heated with anger that coursed through his veins, tempered by the press of their bodies, a heat of another type entirely. "_You_ hate _me_?"

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A/N- Chapter four, delightful, now I only have one chapter in reserve left to post, so I may have to start writing the fic again. Ah well, c'est la vie. I went over this chapter and tried to improve the writing, eliminating fragmented sentences and run-on's ect. I'm not sure if I actually improved it at all, but I did try. And to what Sarah says, well, I'm mean and that's the next chapter. (I feel like my charecter's have emotional ADHD, that they jump around alot. Opinons? Do the mood swings flow? I always like reviews. My thanks to those who have already been thoughtful enough _to_ review.)  



	5. On the Brink of the Eye

A/N- The regular disclaimer.

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_...words are binding..._

"_You hate me Sarah?" Harsh whispered words. Dangerous words. Words heated with anger that coursed through his veins, tempered by the press of their bodies, a heat of another type entirely. "_You_ hate _me_?"_

Sarah had been expecting Jareth to retaliate, but not like this. The anger in which he seized her, paralyzed her, holding her immobile as he spun her around. It was almost violent, the first uncontrolled actions she had ever seen from him, pressing her against him with a bruising force. Feral, untamed passion that turned his voice rough, infused with an intensity that made any lingering anger flee in the face of such emotion. "Answer me!" A demand. He squeezed her, one hand pressing her arm against her side, the other still holding her wrist in the air, a cruel parody of the dance they had shared. She opened her mouth, and closed it, the yes caught in her throat. She wanted to scream it, yes, she hated him, yes, yes, _yes_! But she couldn't. "The truth Sarah, tell me the truth." His voice was softer now, recovering the liquid feel, the smooth notes that flowed over her, engulfing her. Surrounding her even as his scent enveloped her, embracing her completely, binding her in his arms. His eyes capturing her with their fire, leaving her helpless, vulnerable to him, unable to resist the control he sought, the power he needed, letting him rule her.

"No…" She couldn't look at those eyes anymore, they would swallow her, consume her with their hunger, and she dropped her gaze. She felt his grasp relax slightly, loosening his grip upon her wrist, the crush of their bodies easing. "No… I don't." His arms felt gentle again, protective, as if he once again held something precious, something fragile, something that would break if he let go. He released her wrist but his other hand had curled around her waist, keeping her there. Slowly Jareth brought his free hand up to her face, tenderly lifting her chin so her eyes would look up once more, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. She felt limp in his arms, pliable, as if all her body would ever wish to do was cling to him and never let go. Safe. His face was indecipherable now, the starving look had gone, but a different expression was written across his features. One Sarah could not understand, not because it was cold or empty, but because there was too much, the emotion that was there was too raw, too painful for Sarah to comprehend. Slowly his face bent down, she could feel his breath, almost taste him he was so close. Too close. With a muffled cry Sarah threw herself backwards, stumbling away from him. Safe? No, that was the last place she was safe- in the arms of the Goblin King.

"Jareth- I- I can't- Just let me go, please. Send me home, send me back to my room. Send me back to my family-"

"What family Sarah? A family that wished you to the Goblins? Face it Sarah, you have no family, they sold you, they gave you away." His voice was harsh, but was devoid of anger, the cruelty of truth with no adornment.

"But that's- that's not true! I have Toby, and I have my father-"

"Sarah! Be honest with yourself, Toby… barely a year old now and he still cries when you hold him… He'll forget about you, I would be surprised if he still remembered you now. And your father Sarah. Has he actually looked at you within the past year? When is the last time he sat you down and told you he loved you? Looked you in the eye? Can you tell me that Sarah? Or could it be you don't remember?"

"Stop it! Stop it Jareth!"

"You don't do you? You can't really call it home, not since your mother died. You haven't _really_ been able to call it home for a long time. Not since your father remarried, and there you were, like an extra wheel, never really part of the family, never quite accepted-"

"_Stop it!"_

"Given away…" His voice was relentless, tearing at her from the inside out. Gathering strength as he went, getting louder, the words drove themselves through her, echoing painfully because she could not deny, faced with his cruel voice, she could not deny the truth. And to her dismay she found that the tears _were_ running down her face, silent trails of unspoken sorrow, sorrow she had never admitted to anyone. Not even herself. "But Sarah… Look at me…" Soft now, sympathetic. Kind words, persuasive, caring… loving. A caress of words that poured over the scars he had just reopened like clean water, trying to purify her soul. "Look at me Sarah." Finally she did, unwilling to let him see the glistening patterns that ran down her face, but unable to resist the comfort that was promised in his voice. He walked over to her as he spoke, his footsteps as soft as his tone, gentle on the plush carpet, gentle on Sarah's ears. "I am here now Sarah. The only home you could ever want, the only home you will ever need, I can provide it." His hand was light on her shoulder, sending a numbing chill through her body. "I can be everything for you Sarah, I will be your world."

He was holding her again, holding her as he had just minutes before. But it was different now, now every nerve in her was humming, aware of him to the absolute, buzzing with him. Because now, the security was gone, she was aware, oh-so-very aware of whose arms held her. Of whose voice was tantalizing her ears, whose scent was surrounding her until she could smell nothing else, whose heart she felt thudding next to her own. This time she was very aware of the danger he held to her, aware of the Goblin King. But it was this time, as he leaned in, hovering so close to her face, that she did not pull away, her eyes caught in his, as a cobra hypnotizes a bird. Held for a moment of breathless anticipation, trapped in his gaze, and then his lips were upon hers.

Demanding and possessive, gentle and sweet. It was aggressive yet compassionate, as if he was aware of every nerve in her body as well as his own, that he knew she had never kissed another. Mingled need and restraint, the control he craved so much, a paradox in creation. And Sarah was lost in the kiss. It was true, she had never truly been kissed before, never felt the hunger in another, never yielded herself to anyone. But now she did, for a moment his words were utterly absolutely true, he was her world.

And then the kiss broke, and all that was left was his sharp intake of breath, and her own, half-panicked gasps of air. _What have I done?_

"I can be everything Sarah…"

She looked up at him, his eyes as vulnerable as her own, and she was terrified. This was the offer she hadn't wanted to understand, didn't want to understand. She was too young, she wasn't ready, she had no business being here, playing with fire. He had no business keeping her, burning her. "No Jareth- No-" She was pushing backwards again. _Pull yourself together Sarah! He wants you panicked, he wants you off-guard, pull yourself together!_ Out of his grasp she straightened, she hated being vulnerable, hated being played, and that is what he had just done. He had played her, and she had followed along, he was the perfect puppet-master, and she had been his marionette. So what if his eyes were as pained as hers? It was all an act. Everything was. She wouldn't be played, rather let him be hurt then her. He had taken her, cut her open and then taken advantage of the pain. "You… you tricked me- How dare you, you tricked me into kissing you, you took advantage of me!" There, righteous anger to suppress the memory of the kiss. Lock away the moment, it meant nothing, think only of your anger, don't let yourself be hurt. It's safer.

* * *

_...words are binding... _

Jareth would never understand her. How one minute she could be so helpless, so pliable in his arms and the next minute she could be accusing him of manipulation. Although he might agree that he was not entirely innocent when it came to that charge. He just preferred to call it seduction. Still, he could not understand how she could do this to him. He was the Goblin King, cool, self-assured, mocking, and yet, when she walked into his life he seemed to start fraying at the edges. All of the self-control, the discipline he had so carefully cultivated was shattered, all of the emotion he had convinced himself that he didn't have was suddenly ruling his actions. But that kiss… For one moment he had lost himself, lost himself to her, in her. He had let himself be vulnerable. And now here she was, accusing him of manipulation? For a moment he could not speak.

"You know what- That's it. I'm leaving, I don't care what it takes, Goblin King, but you're sending me home. And yes, it is my _home_. Not you, not your bloody Labyrinth, home. I have had enough of this, enough of you, enough of whatever the hell you want between us- I'm leaving-"

Even if you asked him a hundred centuries later, Jareth would still be unable to tell you where the words came from, on what impulse he had been acting. Why he would open himself up further to Sarah's retaliation, maybe it was because he saw him losing her again, and he couldn't bear that. But whatever the cause, the words came unbidden, hanging in the sudden silence like a crystal about to shatter upon the floor. "Marry me, Sarah."

Sarah just stopped, her mouth still slightly open. _Marry him? Was he insane? What the hell was he thinking?_ "Oh, right. Sure, I'll marry you Jareth. I'll marry you and then, on our honeymoon, I'll f-ck you senseless every night for a week. But before that, I'll get down on my knees and polish your bloody boots every f-cking morning-" _Why was he smiling?_ "Jareth? Why… why are you laughing?"

And he was, a bitter laugh, bitter with experience, but also bitter, because in spite of himself, he was pleased with what she had just done. Her family had given her away… but she, she had just sold herself. "Sarah… In the Underground- _words are binding_."

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A/N- Oh, alright, I admit it, that was a mean cliffhanger, I can't excuse myself. I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed once more, it means more then you know, especially now that I have no more backup chapters and must begin to write the story again. I appreciate all the suggestions left, I have tried to improve the story with them, but even more, I appreciate the time taken to pause and review. Such a small ammount of time, but it does make a big difference to the author, of any story I'm sure. So have fun on your wait my duckies... I'll update soon... Review and I'll update sooner.  



	6. My Galatea

A/N- The regular disclaimer.

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_And he was, a bitter laugh, bitter with experience, but also bitter, because in spite of himself, he was pleased with what she had just done. Her family had given her away… but she, she had just sold herself. "Sarah… In the Underground- words are binding."_

_

* * *

_

_...words are binding... _

Silence. A silence known only to a desperate few, a silence when the clock ceases to tick, the earth to turn, your heart to beat. The silence before the carriage once again becomes a pumpkin, the silence as your feet leave the ground, before you start to fall. The silence that, once shattered, can never be repaired. "Jareth? Jareth, are you saying what I think you're saying?" _Because you had better _not_ be saying what I think you just said._

"Sarah…" Calm, rational, a soothing voice, but underneath, a tone that Sarah did not want to hear. A tone that, coming from him, could only mean one thing. A hidden note of pleading, coming from him… It was true.

"Oh God." Sarah suddenly felt slightly dizzy. "Jareth, I need… I need to sit down." Immediately he was by her side, leading her over to the chairs that surrounded the dying fire. The leather chair was firm beneath her, a solid promise that not everything in the world had just fallen to pieces. He knelt next to her, one gloved hand still resting on her own hand, the dancing shadows cast by the flickering embers catching his features, searing them into her gaze. She closed her eyes.

"Sarah, I know how you feel-"

"_You_ know how I feel right now?"

"Sarah! Please… Listen to me." The pleading note had become more obvious. His voice was kind, such a contrast to the mocking tones she normally heard in it. "I _do_ know how you feel; you think I have not made unintentional promises? That I have never accidentally bound myself? This is the Underground Sarah, and promises, whether they are meant or no, have to be kept. You aren't dealing with reason anymore, it doesn't understand sarcasm, words are meant, what's said is said." The words washed over her, numbing, almost comforting. Almost, but not quite. The silence had still been broken, her world had still shattered, and no words, however tender, that the Goblin King said, would put it back together again.

Still… Maybe, maybe it wasn't true, maybe he was just lying. Maybe he was just playing with her again. He had taken advantage of her before, had kissed her when she needed comfort. This was just another ploy. It had to be. They were words to untie the knot in her stomach, words to mend the hole in her heart, to put her world back together. But Sarah could not begin.

His hand still lightly resting on her own, she wanted so badly to believe that it was not true, wanted more than anything to believe he was lying to her. The man who had never told her a lie, the man whose every word had rung painfully true, she wanted more than anything to refuse him, refuse to believe. But she couldn't. He was telling her the truth. She couldn't mend her world with a lie, it would cave in upon her once again, and Sarah didn't think she could survive another collapse.

It was almost surreal. So the sky hadn't fallen in, her feet were still bonded firmly to the ground, but it was not the same. Would never be the same. What had she promised exactly? To shine his shoes, shine his shoes… she could see his smirk already, already wanted to throttle him. Now there was an option, kill him before she had to- to sleep with him… Sarah cringed internally at the words that had come out of her mouth, why hadn't she used that euphemism? To merely _sleep_ with him would have been far easier. But worse, much worse then even that, she had promised to marry him. Surreal. Sarah was suddenly exhausted, her nerves which had been buzzing all evening, suddenly could take no more. The numbing pressure that had been weighing on her until she felt she could take no more was suddenly… gone.

"Sarah…" Her name once again falling from his lips, forcing her to open her eyes. He looked worried, tired. "Sarah, please, you need to go to bed. Sleep." _Right. Of course. Sleep. _A faint voice echoed in her head, one she would always remember. A voice she thought she had buried beneath the anger, beneath the pain of not belonging. A distant echo, sensible, sweet- _Everything will look better in the morning._ Her mother's voice, then, as quickly as it had come it was gone, and she was left staring at the Goblin King. _Some consolation prize_.

"Yes, of course. Sleep." She stood up, Jareth moving in unison with her. "But…" She glanced at the ceiling, remembering the vivid descent from her balcony as if it was a hundred years ago, like looking through a broken mirror.

"You can sleep in my bed tonight, Sarah. I will take a chair." It didn't occur to her to protest as he led her to the platformed bed. The room was already starting to blur around the corners, the numb feeling that had paralyzed her, keeping her silent. Jareth helped her up, the bed, decadent to the extreme was only comforting to Sarah's drooping eyes. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, turning to return to the fireplace when Sarah caught his hand.

"Jareth? Please? Is there anyway out? Anyway at all?"

* * *

_...words are binding... _

Anyway out? Jareth's heart suddenly lodged in his throat, his breath thundering in his ears. What could he say? Sarah. His Sarah. It sounded beautiful in his ears, a feeling of utopia only known to Pygmalion before him. Aphrodite had granted his wish now, had given him his Galatea, had turned his cold dream into warm flesh. She had given him his Sarah. The memory of the kiss was still strong, teasing, taunting him. She had become everything to him, she had become his world, how could he give that up? How could he think of losing that?

But how could he keep her? Like the Nightingale caged, would she forget how to sing? How could he keep her, bind her to him, hold her and never let go? How could he not? She was everything, in a world without meaning she had given him something to believe in. From a monochrome existence she had fallen into his life like light through a prism, scattering into a thousand different colors, painting his world with a passion he had never known. She enraged him, yes, violently so. But then, she had tamed it, tamed him, unwillingly, unconsciously, unintentionally. She had become his. But before that, far before that, she had made him hers.

How could he give that up? He could tell her, tell her the truth, that with one whisper he could set her free, give breath to one thought and let her fly away. _I release you from your promise. _ He could tell her the truth, that promises once made, _could_ be broken by consent. That you could scream and curse, a thousand different words that would have no effect, but once said, a promise could only be broken by consent. _I release you…_ So yes Sarah, yes, there was a way out. He could liberate her with one parting kiss of words. There _was_ a way out. But Jareth could not give it to her.

"No… No Sarah, I'm sorry." Choking in his throat, it was almost as quiet as her breath as sleep took her from him. The first lie he had ever told her. The only lie that could keep her. "I'm sorry Sarah…" _I'm sorry…_

_

* * *

_

A/N- Heh. I'm not sure what to think of Jareth, I'm alternating between throttling him for what he just did or melting at how sweet that was in a perverse way. Okay, not my favorite chapter, I'll admit it. Giving refrence to the last couple of paragraphs to those who aren't in love with ancient Greece,Pygmalion was a Greek sculpture who carved the perfect woman and fell in love with her. Aphrodite granted him his wish and turned the woman into flesh, her name was Galatea. As always, review please, and brownie points to those who already do.


	7. A Promise is a Promise

A/N- I do not own Labyrinth, the charecters, ect. In other words- The regular disclaimer.

_

* * *

_

_…words are binding…_

Nothing, as far as the eye could see, just darkness, wrapping around her, cradling her in comforting oblivion. It was not frightening, but then again, it was not rational. Surrounded by the dark Sarah felt safer then she had ever felt before. Perhaps it was the smell, a foreign smell, subtle and dusty. The heat of the sun baking down on cobbled streets, stone walls, but also the gentle perfume of flowers, caught on a light breeze. A fresh scent, but laden with an unknown history. Still, there was something else, there was something about it, something familiar, a sweet smell, one Sarah knew very well… _peaches_!

Sarah's eyes flew open, practically blinding herself. The room was filled with light, streaming in through Jareth's glass wall; it was the warm glow of late morning. A light breeze was making its way in through the open glass door's of his balcony, flitting around Sarah's head to catch in her long hair; it carried the scent of the Underground with it. The scent that had awoken her so sharply. She sat up slowly, blinking, she knew where she was but she couldn't remember why… how… For the second time that morning Sarah's eyes shot open, this time with a blurred memory of the previous night's events. "That bastard! I'm going to kill him!"

"Really Sarah, it was none of _my_ doing. You give me too much credit." Jareth's voice had recovered its smug tones while he slept apparently, because the comment was dripping with barely concealed amusement. He was lounging in the one of the three doorways, already dressed and smirking. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"What time is it?" She swung her legs over the edge of the bed as she spoke; glad to see she was still dressed as she had been the night before, if slightly more wrinkled. She winced a little at the movement, her muscles protesting after the descent they had endured the night before.

"It's almost eleven o'clock, Pet. I let you sleep in." He arched an eyebrow at her, "You had such a busy night last night, I thought you might need the rest." His tone insinuated things much worse than the kiss they had shared. Reasons she would have awoken late in his bed, sore. Sarah's eyes snapped up at him before she remembered fully that soon he wouldn't just have to insinuate. Suddenly she felt slightly queasy.

"Get over yourself, Jareth." She stood and looked around the room. Right, well, first a shower then a new set of clothes, _then_ she could deal with the Goblin King. A small shudder curled itself in her stomach at that thought, of what they had to discuss. She shoved it aside, she couldn't deal with it right now, get dressed, have breakfast, then… Well, she wouldn't be ready but at least she would be more prepared. If that was possible.

"The bathroom is there." Jareth's voice interrupted her thoughts, this time the innate arrogance was less noticeable. Had he toned it down or… was she actually getting used to it? Sarah glanced at where he was pointing.

"Thanks."

"There are clothes in there already." He was being nice. That was never a good sign.

Sge narrowed her eyes. "What are you playing at Goblin King?"

"Now Sarah, are you accusing me of toying with you?" Sarah sighed, his innocent voice was nearly as irritating as the arrogance. At least the egotism seemed natural. She shrugged and headed for the bathroom, eleven o'clock was still too early to deal with him.

"Whatever you say."

"But- since you mention it…" Sarah stopped. She could hear Jareth behind her, his boots on the carpet as he came closer. "But since you mention it Sarah, I do believe you have a promise to fulfill." Wait. _What?_ Sarah whirled around, what was he saying? He expected her to marry him? Right now? _He can't mean that, he can't be that unreasonable._

Sarah wasn't sure whether to be relieved or infuriated at the sight that greeted her eyes. Jareth was standing barely a foot away, a shoe shine cloth dangling from his fingers, a smirk flitting across his lips. Oh. That bastard. Sarah scowled as he chuckled. "Forget it Jareth, I'm taking a shower." She turned and started walking towards the bathroom again.

"If I were you Pet, I'd make it a very quick shower, it's almost noon." The words echoed after her as she made a quick retreat into the bathroom. However, the significance of his taunt was lost as Sarah gasped at the room she had just entered. If she had thought Jareth's bed was bad it was nothing compared to his bathroom. The room mirrored her own washroom, the floor stretching out into a large sunken tub with crystal taps. That was however, where the similarities ended. Compared to this, the room that at first had seemed to her strangely elegant for a goblin's castle seemed now as barbaric as a medieval pig pen. Her floor was of mere stone, Jareth's bathroom floor was of marble, black marble with green veins shooting through it. Where she had only the bath, he also had a shower, set into an alcove with a door of fogged glass, it was as big as her bathtub. His bathtub might have been the size of her entire bathroom. Sarah turned slowly, taking in the room, no matter how much she might scorn the Goblin king, she had to admit he had amazing taste. Pulling off a venture of luxury such as this without appearing gaudy? It left her practically breathless.

Still, slightly impractical. Sarah ached to take a soak in his bathtub, linger in the water until all of the doubts, all of the worries, all of the cares she had been holding flowed out of her. But she couldn't, not with Jareth waiting for her, not with their discussion hanging over her like the executioners axe. Regretfully Sarah began to strip, now fully aware once more of what was to come when she finished with her shower, the knot back in her stomach. She slipped past the glass door into the shower, turning the crystal handles. The water was a shock when it hit her, just hot enough to make her gasp, but she didn't adjust it.

By the time she did turn off the tap, the heat had done it's work, not only making her feel cleaner then she had since coming to the Underground, but calming the flutter in her heart, easing the nervousness pounding in her veins. She stepped out of the shower, onto the rich black carpet designed to absorb excess water, and quickly wrapped herself in a large green towel. Then she saw the clothes.

Alright, she had to give Jareth some credit, it wasn't what had been displayed in her wardrobe upstairs but… The dress seemed ripped from the Renaissance, though she knew it was probably not accurate. The sleeves were elaborate, falling at least to her waist if she held her arms straight out, the bodice was tight, giving way to loose skirts. The neckline wasn't low, per say, but with the tightness of the bodice it gave her… cleavage. Sarah, hesitated for a moment, looking for the wrinkled clothes she had discarded. They were on the floor in a heap. She looked back at the dress, the green folds giving off the muted scent of lilacs, silken under her fingers. _Well… I guess I can humor him… Just this once of course._ Of course.

She was admiring herself in the full length mirror, her long brown hair still dripping down her back when it first hit her. Her body went rigid, freezing her to the spot as surely as if she had been turned to the marble that surrounded her, and then she started to move. Slow movements, choppy, as if her muscles were moving without her permission. Because it was true, suddenly Sarah was a prisoner in her own body, moving to the door as if she were one drunk. She opened the door, struggling with the handle for a moment and staggered into the bedroom where Jareth was lounging in one of the chairs by the fire. Her body took a frightening lurch towards the smirking Goblin King.

"Jareth! Jareth, what the hell is happening?"

"I warned you Sarah. A promise is a promise." She had reached him now, her knees falling heavily to the ground in front of him, close to him, very close. Close enough to make her cheeks flame red even as she took the proffered shoe shine cloth. She should have been angry, should have been humiliated by what she was doing. She should have felt the death of her one last hope that Jareth was lying about binding promises. But the only thought running through her head was why, why does he have to wear _those pants_?

Her movements where mechanical, more strained now then they were before because she was focusing with every ounce of her being on throwing herself away. She could feel the smug satisfaction just flowing off of him, the perverse pleasure he was taking from her situation. But every time she risked a glance up to glare at him, her head refused to look away from it's task and her eyes were halted where they should not have ventured. Finally, as her cloth left his boot for the last time, her muscles were released, liberating her exactly as the clock struck noon. As the rigid, paralyzed feeling left her, Sarah was thrown back into control, back into the body she had posed for desperate movement. She felt herself falling forwards, propelled by the pressure that had built in her muscles while she was frantically wishing herself away, her head landing on Jareth's thigh.

For a moment the room froze, like time itself had stopped, heartbeats stopped, not a breath stirring the air. And then Sarah was flying backwards, sprawling on the soft carpet behind her, the nerves in her entire body on fire. She put a hand to her cheek, the blush almost as warm as the tingle that was still dancing in her veins. The brief contact… electrifying. She swallowed, looking up at the Goblin King's smirk, even as it faltered slightly, his eyes widening. She blinked. No, she must have imagined it, his face was as calm as ever, fixed in that mocking smile.

"Honestly my dear Sarah, I _was_ willing to wait until we were married, but if you're really so eager…"

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A/N- Yes, well, if he was a dear and got rid of the boot-polishing, I would be out this chapter. Besides, I can see Jareth liking that part of her promise. I didn't like the last chapter, probably because it's true Jareth_ is _innately too arrogant to lie, but I guess I'm a little self-serving with the charecters actions. I also didn't like where this chapter left off, no really evil cliffhanger, but I did need someplace to stop it, hence where is ends. Oh well, I guess I'm being negative because Real Life has been interfering lately. Thank you ever so much for revewing, please, do it again.  



	8. Melt Down

A/N- Regular disclaimer.

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…_words are binding…_

"Honestly my dear Sarah, I _was_ willing to wait until we were married, but if you're really so eager…" Jareth's voice was misleadingly flippant; the look he was giving her anything but. His tone martyred; his stare…

Sarah stiffened as the fury that had abandoned her returning with a vengeance under the heat of his gaze. She clambered to her feet, straightening with the relief of strained muscles, more incensed then grateful to be on equal footing with the Goblin King once more. Angry that he had allowed her to be on her knees, angry that it wasn't his fault, angry that he had _enjoyed_ it. His eyes followed her movements, hovering on the curves of the dress, where the tight bodice flared into loose skirts, and then up, watching the rise and fall of her unsteady breath.

His eyes lingering on her was more then she could take. "You bastard! You lecherous, disgusting, cheating bastard! I'm only _seventeen_! Seventeen! You're- God- I don't even _know_ how old you are! I have to marry you and I don't even know how old you are-" Jareth rose, as Sarah's voice began to become shrill. It was a sleek movement, graceful in painful contrast to Sarah's own irate, jerky motions. He approached her slowly, ignoring the desperate notes that were starting to break through into Sarah's voice. "But it doesn't matter! It doesn't matter because I don't have a choice, it doesn't matter what I want and you're just sitting there smugly because you know you're getting what _you_ want!" He was close again; close enough for her to catch that intoxicating scent that clung to him, that infuriating smell, that thoughtless smile. The loose careless smile that she just wanted to wipe off his face, make him see. No, that wasn't the problem, he did see her position, he just didn't care. "I hate you!"

Sarah flung herself at him, covering the short space between them, her hands balled up into fists, pounding pointlessly against his chest. "I hate you- I hate you- _I hate you_!" Jareth's arms went around her, holding her loosely, giving her room to move her arms for the blows that didn't even make him wince. Gentle arms, safe arms, carefully brushing away wet hair from her face.

"If it makes you feel better, then go ahead and hit me." His voice was soft, betraying the smile that had been on his face, a deep voice, quiet but humming with the promises, the sorrows, the kindness she had been looking for. Suddenly Sarah found her anger dissolving, almost before she had realized it, bubbling away into the familiar burn of tears hiding behind her eyes, clogging her throat. Her arms rested uselessly against him, her head down, desperately fighting the sobs that threatened to wrack her body. Jareth's arms started to tighten around her, bring her closer, hold her tears against him.

"No- Don't-" It was of no use, he held her tightly, one hand running over her hair as he swayed back and forth, crooning to her.

"Shhhh… Shhh my beautiful girl, my beautiful Sarah…" Almost a lullaby, deep in his throat, rhythmic and kind. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, even as the tell-tale warmth lodged in her chest, a salty tear making its trail down her face, choking her with suppressed cries. Jareth's grasped loosened a little as her body went limp, yet he still held her tightly, as if she were something fragile, something loved, something he didn't want to lose. "Shhh now Sarah, my precious, my pet…"

* * *

…_words are binding…_

Jareth had watched Sarah's retreating back with rather sardonic enjoyment. _Very well… I_ did _warn her. _It wasn't his fault she was in for a shock. Well… Not completely his fault. Still, it would complicate matters later, they had much to discuss and- the sound of the bathroom door closing cut his inner monologue off abruptly. Not much he could do now but sit and wait, it was on Sarah's head now. Jareth strolled to the leather chairs surrounding the fireplace, idly toying with the shoe shine cloth. As he stretched out in one he turned his eyes to the closed door, wondering how she would make her eventual appearance, well, more appropriately, in what state of dress.

The noises in the bathroom startled him from his reverie, the telltale stumbling, the rattling of the door before it swung open. He turned to look expectantly at the door_. Sarah isn't going to be pleas-_

"Jareth! Jareth, what the hell is happening?"

"I warned you Sarah, a promise is a promise…" She dropped right in front of him, close enough that the disappointment over her complete state of dress faded fast. Very fast. He watched her as she moved, the stiff, awkward muscles lacking even the lesser mortal grace she usually had. Still… His Sarah. She was so beautiful, even now, hair falling around her, dripping down her back, turning the dark green almost black with water trails. The way her body hunched over, struggling with itself, almost buzzing with the effort. The way her arms curved as she moved them, how she was so close if he shifted he would brush against her face.

It happened so fast even Jareth was caught unawares. Suddenly Sarah's body lurched forward, her face brushing against his leg in a movement he had been playing over in his head ever since she had dropped in front of him. His eyes widened for a split second, the fire that started to tingle under his skin blazing, the brief contact a bellows. Sarah was starting at him and immediately his face fell into that easy smile. "Honestly Sarah…"

* * *

…_words are binding…_

Sarah clung to him, holding onto Jareth now, holding him as a drowning man holds the lifesaver that keeps him afloat. The sobs were slowly dying, losing their force until all that was left was the harsh sound of her breath against his gentle croons. Slowly Jareth pulled away, reluctantly leaving Sarah's arms, the fact she _was_ clinging to him. Accepting comfort from him. Not even the fact he was holding her in his arms, but the fact she was willing to be there. He brushed his hand against the side of her face, gently wiping his thumb against a tearstained cheek.

"Sarah…" She looked up at him, warm brown eye still watery, almost resigned. Almost. "Let's sit down." Mutely she walked to the chairs, taking the one he had just vacated, looking at him as if she almost wanted him to object. Instead Jareth just sighed and took the chair next to her, turning to look at her as silence filled the gap between them.

Sarah stared straight ahead, although the tears had fizzled out the dull ache that lingered in her chest hadn't. She felt looser now, calmer, somehow detached, as if she was another girl, in another life, as if she was only reading a fairy tale. But it had felt so good to be held in his arms… To be wanted… _That's not all he wants._ Of course, internal dialogue, why not?

"Sarah?" The voice made her jump slightly, and she turned to look at Jareth.

"Yes?" Her voice surprised herself, detached voice, without a hint of the storm that had just come through.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine. I'm wonderful, couldn't be better."

"Be careful Sarah, I've been surprisingly indulgent, but you will watch your tone." For some reason Jareth felt anger beginning to rise in his voice. Watching her sit there, eyes glazing for a moment, her voice so… distant. It wasn't right, she wasn't allowed- she was his. His.

Sarah blinked, her eyes snapping back, anger flashing in them. "I will do nothing of the sort." At least now she was present. Jareth softened his tone, almost pacified by the anger he had summoned. His ability to control something about her.

"Now Sarah, is that anyway to treat your future husband?" A silky comment, almost a purr it was so self-satisfied.

"You're not- You- God! I hate you."

"No you don't." A light finger tracing over her arm, down the cloth onto bare skin, Sarah shivered. "Now, we do need to talk… When is your birthday?"

"What?" She looked up at him in confusion. "My birthday?"

"Your birthday." He said it slowly as if she were slightly dim.

"In three months." A scowl. She was _not_ stupid.

"Good, that gives us barely enough time to start planning." A sinking feeling started in her stomach, she didn't want to ask. Didn't want to but had to.

"Planning what?"

This time he did look at her as if she was stupid, he said it simply, as if it was something perfectly natural. "Our wedding."

* * *

A/N- Eeep. I'm sorry. I know, I should be absolutely ashamed it took me so long to update. I had to bike from Erie to Pittsburgh, then go to a family reunion, lots of long car trips everywhere, then my birthday, plus I had to write a birthday present for a friend and… I'm sorry. I guess life happened. But it's up now. Short but it's up. Forgive me? Right… okay. So, I guess it's an okay chapter, more of a filler, i promise more will happen in the next chapter, review and I put it up, quicker this time. I have more incentive to escape what with school starting so soon. Thanks everyone. 


	9. Half Light

A/N- The regular disclaimer.

_

* * *

...words are binding..._

The dress was made of white silk and studded with tiny pearls, as if all the stars that danced in the too-clear skies of the Underground had fallen, only to be gathered and sewn to the full cascading skirts of her dress. The neckline was low, but not too low, the elegant plunge that exposed her neck and shoulders halting before it crept close to the tight swell of her bodice, suggesting but not stating, subtly intriguing but not brusque. Each step closer to the alter made her skirts whisper, a low murmur of sophistication.

A lace veil hung over her face, white flowers with delicate vines, Sarah hoped that it obscured her face as much as it hid the rest of the room, though from the silence she could have been the only one there. Just the low reverberating notes of the organ and her own thundering heart. Her feet moved slowly, almost as if she hadn't given them permission to move, but nothing like the paralyzing control of the binding. No, she was making them move, though her mind was screaming out to turn tail and run, her feet continued their ever-shortening journey down the stone path of the aisle.

It was a chapel- a cathedral, the light dim, wavering between reality and fantasy. The slow notes of the organ were eerie, drawn out in the dead silence of the vaulted ceiling, lingering in the air. But no more came, the last notes of the song finished, even before she was, fading from the air to leave her to the silence. The thundering of her heart.

_Oh God. I can't do this._ Her eyes, fixated just in front of her feet, locked on the flat dark stone of the floor hit a step. Stone steps that led up, to the alter, steps that drew her gaze up helplessly onto a pair of gleaming boots, and then higher, up, up to the face of the Goblin King. _No- I can't- Oh God-_

He wasn't smiling, not even a glimmer of the self-satisfied smirk that had been constantly on his face. Neither did he appear nervous, his eyes fixated on her, it was as if he could not move, frozen the moment her gaze had turned up to his. But it was the look in those eyes, it was the look in those eyes that made Sarah's feet start trying to go backwards.

The absolute need in those eyes.

_Run away._

But she couldn't, the minute she tried to step backwards she could feel the binding start to wake, dormant but not active until that point. Pushing her forwards, forcing her foot onto the step. Sarah tried to open her mouth, tried to scream, felt the terror rushing up, terror at being trapped, captured, bound, tried to cry out- but she couldn't. Couldn't open her mouth to scream, couldn't do anything but stare into the mismatched eyes and feel herself begin to burn with the need that was in them. Couldn't do anything but feel herself scream, again and again, inside her own head.

The need in those eyes. She felt herself begin to be consumed. _ I lost something… _Losing herself. The world spiraled and was gone.

Sarah woke in the dark, in a cold sweat that left her shivering even as she pushed off the suffocating covers that held her still. Ten minutes later she still couldn't open her mouth.

* * *

_...words are binding... Three Months…_

The hour before dawn, when the sun has not yet peeked above the horizon, and the warm arms of light reached out shining to give life to the world. The cold hour of grey half-light, stirring the air, as cold as night, but lacking the softness darkness brings. Half-light, illumination with no warmth, truth with no compassion. And Sarah shivered. How long she had been awake- she wasn't sure, restless slumber giving way to waking dreams and fading back, until now the morning grey seeping through her window she lay silent on her bed.

The long shadows that clung to her room parted before the thin shafts of creeping white, like the cool hand of Frost, inching closer to caress her bare legs. Quickly she curled them in, stiff sheets whispering at the movements, quieting as she stilled, knees hugged into her chest. Falling back into that death quiet, the silence before life has begun. Sarah had not recognized the silence until she disturbed it.

She closed her eyes, as always, the dream was waiting, lingering at the back of her mind. Weak now, bleached in coming dawn, fading next to the precision of her room. The gasping terror that had seized her was gone, leaving an ache in her chest, a tight pain that she almost could forget. Almost. Sarah hugged her knees closer.

It was always the same, the same dream, ever since _that_ night, barely a week gone by. Sarah no longer could define it as anything but _that_ night, and count the days it marked, or rather, the nights. By day it was different, in the light of day, she could breathe, she could speak, fight, laugh even. Sometimes. And as the sun disappeared, she almost did not notice, did not want to notice. She talked with him, like as not, fought with him, sometimes she even forgot it was merely a gilded cage, that she was bound by the foolishness of her own words.

But at night, when she finally surrendered herself to sleep, the dream came. The screams were left, unborn in her throat, constricting her, leaving her gasping for air. Yet, at night it was easier. The dream was so close, so real, it was easy to let the terror lull her rational mind, easy to surrender to the passion that darkness offered. Easy to escape.

It was the harsh truth of half-light that Sarah feared the most. Alone, truth without compassion, it was so difficult to face. She wanted to be held, to be told that it was alright, comforted. It was now that she thought of her family, how they thought of her, if they thought of her. She wanted her father, she wanted Toby.

She wanted her mother.

Sarah hugged herself closer, biting her lip. She was too young. She was too young to be this old. _Mum- _The tears were warm on her face.

* * *

_...words are binding... Three Months…_

"Sarah."

"Mghoway"

"Sarah-"

" 'Gway" She pulled the pillow tighter over her head.

"Sarah- Open your eyes this instant." Sarah tried to ignore the voice that had been pestering her for the last ten minutes. He was worse than a bloody alarm clock- at least they had a snooze function. "… I did warn you."

Suddenly Sarah wasn't curled up comfortably in a warm, downy blanket. She hit the floor with a thump, half-lidded eyes glaring up at the intruder to her room. Wait, what the bloody hell was he doing in her room? Her sleep-studded eyes did not want to open anymore than they already were, but the glare she managed was enough to make him back up a step. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

He answered with a smirk that was quickly submerged under a blaze of light as the curtains she had managed to close before falling asleep once more were flicked open, letting in the scorching Underground sun. Sarah made a choking noise and stood up, flinging the pillow she still clutched at him and diving for the curtains.

"Getting you up, a task that apparently you can't seem to manage on your own." Jareth flicked his eyes over Sarah, appreciating the disgruntled-irate glares she sent him, her hair in a chaotic swarm about her face. Was it just him or did her eyes seem redder, bloodshot? "Haven't you been sleeping well?"

Sarah glared, turning away from him to stalk to the wardrobe, "It's none of your business, Goblin. Now leave." Jareth chuckled, that low deep laugh that froze her where she stood, sorting through the glowing fabrics. That laugh. He came closer to her, the sound of his footsteps behind her familiar, a painful anticipation that suddenly seemed to swell in her stomach. His hand brushed close to her neck, hovering over the hectic tangle of her hair, not even touching her skin, but she could feel him with every nerve in her body.

"As my lady wishes." Soft, slow words in her ear, drawn out deliberately. Gods she wanted- she wanted- she didn't know what she wanted! "Breakfast shall be waiting in the courtyard for you. As shall I." And he was gone. Sarah's breath shuddered out. She hated him. Still, her pace quickened as she headed for the bathroom, dress in hand- why she was hurrying?

Sarah closed her eyes. There were a thousand reasons, but the truth? That could wait for half-light.

* * *

A/N- Eeep. I'm sorry. Again. I wish I had an actual excuse, but the only one is that school started again, and that's not much of a reason. Ah well, it's up now. Finally. As always, my thanks to my reviewers, I don't think there would have been another chapter if I hadn't had the encouragment. This chapter was more then a little melancholy, I promise a little humor soon, and a bit more Jareth. 


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